


The Cave

by makingitwork



Series: Headteacher Hannibal [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: 14 year old Will, Creepy Hannibal, Headmaster Hannibal, Innocent Will, Just a little bit of interaction, M/M, Nothing explicit here, kind of, little drabble, school au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So..." Hannibal purses his lips, appraising Will "You believe that the shadow is more beautiful because you cannot see its flaws?"</p><p>Will beams, chocolate curls falling across a smooth face "Exactly."</p><p>He thinks. "What about beings with no flaws?"</p><p>"Such as?"</p><p>Hannibal smiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cave

Inspired by this pic

 

" _Headmaster Lecter!"_ Mr Steward stuttered upon seeing the head teacher standing in the doorway of his classroom, in his impeccable suit and waistcoat, slicked back hair. "W-what are you doing here, Headmaster?"

 

Hannibal doesn't have time for these games, he brushes past one of his mediocre employees and steps into the classroom, where all the students look up from their individual desks, all shrinking back further into wooden seats. Yes, Mr Steward may be strict, but they've all heard of the headmaster. "You know I take a liberty of checking in on lessons from time to time," he says easily, accent slipping off his tongue so he sounds wise and cultured. "I shall take a seat at the back, and you shall proceed. Yes?"

 

Mr Steward nods dully, and Hannibal takes a seat in the back corner.

 

A boy on the back row turns to peak at him, and Hannibal catches his breath.

 

The boy is _stunning._ With dark tumbling curls into his eyes and down to the nape of his neck, at 14, a completely clean face, and wide blue eyes, and a delicate nose. Small, submissive, beautiful. A long, arching neck under the school uniform. Grey trousers and white shirt with a black jumper. His blazer hangs on the back of his chair, impeccably clean, yet there is something completely unruly about the boy, and Hannibal loves it. As soon as their eyes meet, the boy looks away, focusing on the chalk board at the front. Once the lesson gets into full blown swing, and Steward has them working on exercises, Hannibal stands, and pulls a seat up beside Will, the boys and girls around him automatically relax, shooting Will sympathetic glances, as the boy looks up at him. "Y-Yes Sir?" He whispers quietly, gripping his pencil tight in his hands, wondering what he's done wrong.

 

"May I see your work book?"

 

Nervous, fumbling hands pass them over, and Hannibal looks through them. He gets everything right, if Stewards enthusiastic ticks and comments are anything to go by, and he works neatly with black ink. His methods seem a little strange, a little different, _alternative,_ Hannibal decides, but if he gets the right answer, why not let his rebel in the way he goes about answering questions? It shows a uniqueness that intrigues him, that perhaps the books could not teach him a method his mind understood, so he taught himself a new one. Either that, or Mr Steward has been helping behind the scenes. His fingers curls around the corner of the page, as he darts a quick look at front cover.

 

" _William,"_ he sighs, enjoying the name "Who taught you this method?" And he points to a question.

 

"Will," the boy corrects by way of reflex, eyes focusing on the question, and his cheeks flare up "I uh, created that method myself," he swallowed thickly "B-but I made sure to get Mr Steward to check, I would never just ignore the book, but, but..." he trails off for the teacher to stop him, but Hannibal doesn't and Will burns in his haste to continue "It's just that, Mr Lecter Sir, the book makes weird connections, and it doesn't make sense, but my way, the connections are all there, plain as day, and it just..." he rubs the back of his neck "Makes it easier..."

 

Not easier, Hannibal wants to say, your mind is making connections no one else could make. "Well my dear Will, that's very impressive. Is mathematics your favourite subject?"

 

A small quirk of plump pink lips "No, I like Latin." He sighs just saying it "Latin's good. But there are some parts of math better than others. Like...the hypotheticals. Learning what the number system would be like if we placed everything in the base of 12." He smoothed the pages of his book, biting his bottom lip "I like Latin." He surmises quickly, as though that's all he should have said from the start. Hannibal smiles, standing, a firm hand on Will's shoulder.

 

"Very good, Will," he nods, feeling Steward's eyes on the pair of them "Keep up the good work," and he goes back to his seat, gesturing for Mr Steward to continue. He spots a girl sat by Will, he knows her to be Alana, she's an outgoing student, has represented the school in a number of competitions, not overly bright, but definitely enthusiastic enough. She nudges Will's shoulder, and he ducks his head. Hannibal doesn't like that.

 

No, he does not.

 

...

...

...

 

"Hello Will,"

 

"M-Mr Lecter," the boy clutches his books further to his chest as he steps out of his final lesson a week later.

 

"Could I perhaps see you in my office for a moment?"

 

"O-of course," and he falls into quiet step beside the large man. Hannibal can't help but feel the large surge of protectiveness swim over him at the height different. Will is small and slender shouldered, his hair looks soft to the touch, and he seems frail despite his youth. Once they get into the office, Will nearly drowns in the cushions on his seat, and Hannibal laces his fingers together, amused.

 

"Now, Will, I think you are a very bright boy. This past week, I've been looking through your work books, listening to what teachers say about you. 'Smart' they say, 'Smart but quiet'. Now, I know for a fact that you are smart. But quiet, Will? Is that how you would describe yourself?" Hannibal supposes it's not far from the truth, the boy seems like the perfect envision of 'little boys should be seen and not heard', but Will surprises him again.

 

"I speak when spoken too, Sir," he says politely "But when the teachers ask the class a general question, I don't feel the overt need to offer up my opinion. There will always be someone else with a view too, I don't want to impose."

 

"You don't believe your view is good enough to share?"

 

"I don't believe my views are... _reasonable_ enough to share."

 

Hannibal feels his lips quirk, his mask slip, before he can stop himself "An example, dear Will?"

 

The boy thinks about it, but his body thrums with an energy that Hannibal finds incredibly endearing once his brain has pinpointed a memory. "Well, last week, in philosophy, Mrs De Mourier asked 'Is it better, in your opinion, to live in the cave all your life and find shadows beautiful, or to have witnessed true beauty, and then be forced to live in the cave."

 

"Ah," Hannibal nods "You were studying Plato."

 

Will nods, curls fumbling a little "And _my_ view was..." he licks his lips "Well, I had an issue with the general question. _True beauty."_ He wrinkles his nose "Who says a flower is more beautiful than the shadow of a flower? Oh wait-okay," he stumbles over his tongue in his haste "Bad example, but maybe...a rhinoceros? Which is more _beautiful,_ it's shadow, or it's being? When I think of it..." he closes his eyes, _an expressive little boy,_ Hannibal thinks fondly, "I see the shadow as the solid, fluid being, perhaps taller and leaner than it is due to the setting sun, I see the curve of two beautiful horns, and the wonder intricate details along it's base. But then I open my eyes..." he opens his eyes, and Hannibal is captivated "I see the fading dull grey of an old creature with wrinkled skin, I see patches of dirt and filth on what was once smooth horns."

 

"So...the shadow is more beautiful, because you cannot see the flaws?"

 

"Exactly."

 

"What about objects without flaws?"

 

"Such as?"

 

Hannibal fights another smile. He nods at Will. "Quite enlightening, Will." He says, pride emanating from every pore, and he sees the young boys body thrum with pleasure "Now, I'm sure you must get going, your parents will be getting worried about you." Will seems reluctant, but he pulls himself from the chair, and nods.

 

"I doubt it, Sir, but I should be going."

 

Hannibal thinks about that. "Tomorrow, dear Will."

 

Will smiles brightly, and he nods again, books hanging loosely under his arm "Tomorrow, Mr Lecter."


End file.
